Karel: You noticed me at this distance? Impressive.
Rutger: …Karel, the Sword Saint.
Karel: Well, what an honor. You know me?
Rutger: …Everyone who uses the sword knows your name.
Karel: Yes, well, I travelled all around when I was young.
Rutger: …Why are you here in this army?
Karel: My family is here, so I joined as well. I’m hoping that even my rusty skills could be of use.
Rutger: Rusty? Even you joke around sometimes?
Karel: No, I’m serious. I probably would lose out to you young ones.
Karel: You, plese wait a moment.
Rutger: …What do you want?
Karel: I am looking for someone to spar with. Would you care to?
Karel: Why? Am I not a worthy opponent for you?
Rutger: Your sword isn’t used to kill… It doesn’t agree with the path I pursue.
Karel: Perhaps you think so now, but we both follow the way of the sword… All paths of the sword lead to one place.
Karel: …Do you need something, Rutger?
Rutger: I want to ask you something.
Rutger: I sense no hate in your sword… You just seem to blend with the air around you when you attack. Even the heaviest, strongest blades can’t cut through air… Your sword would beat them all. I want to become stronger. If all paths of the sword lead to one place, then would I be able to blend with the air as you do?
Karel: …You’re from Sacae, aren’t you?
Karel: I was born in Sacae as well. I grew up under the protection of Father Sky and Mother Earth. They are all that are in my sword.
Rutger: I’m not a pure Sacaean… I wouldn’t be able to sense them like you can…
Karel: Was that true when you were young?
Karel: You were able to hear the sky and the earth once. Although, now it seems that your hate is covering your ears.
Rutger: …Do you think I’ll be able to hear them again once this war ends?
Karel: Of course you will. The breeze that runs through the plains… It never forgets those that it loves.